


Wrapped Around Her Finger

by Redbirdblackdog



Series: Miracle of Life, It Truly Fucking Is. Birth Stories of Family Clegane [1]
Category: games of thrones - Fandom
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Married Life, Modern AU, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbirdblackdog/pseuds/Redbirdblackdog
Summary: Sansa and Sandor are having their second child and Sandor is having an existential crisis.“Lucky,” he whispered, he’s apparently reduced to just repeating things like a parrot now. A girl he thought; tutus and makeup and skirts and dates and boys and sex. He tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t, couldn’t breath. Just got a daughter and she’s killing him already. Tries to breath again... can’t, turns to his wife for help and she’s giggling. She reaches for him and wraps him in her arms, somehow the oxygen manages to enter his chest now... “a girl,” he whispers.<
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Sandor Clegane
Series: Miracle of Life, It Truly Fucking Is. Birth Stories of Family Clegane [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633285
Comments: 18
Kudos: 91





	Wrapped Around Her Finger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ladeeknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladeeknight/gifts).



> So a chat with the lovely Ladeeknight encouraged me to write a birth story soooo let’s see how it fairs. Crossing my fingers.  
> Thanks GRRM for increadible characters that inspire whatever this is in me.

He remembers sitting in at the ultrasound, “congratulations it’s a girl!”

“What?” he had replied.

Sansa had smiled at him and touched his cheek, “we are having a girl Sandor.”

He lost control at his jaw at that point, may have even drooled a bit, maybe. “A girl,” he whispered. 

“See right here,” the ultrasound technician said pointing out some fuzziness in a field of fuzzy fuzz.

Like that fucking explained it. Sansa was just beamed at him.

“One of each,” she said, “how lucky are we!”

“Lucky,” he whispered, he’s apparently reduced to just repeating things like a parrot now. A girl he thought; tutus and makeup and skirts and dates and boys and sex. He tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t, couldn’t breathe. Just got a daughter and she’s killing him already. Tries to breathe again... can’t, turns to his wife for help and she’s giggling. She reaches for him and wraps him in her arms, somehow the oxygen manages to enter his chest now... “a girl,” he whispers.

“A girl,” she replied.

He’d been thinking on it a while now... a girl, well a bit, no not really. Anytime anyone talked about it he’d go away inside, taking apart a carborator in his mind then putting it back together, that made sense.  


It wasn’t having a kid that scared him, been there done that. She floated through her first pregnancy. Only hiccup there she couldn’t stand chicken, who doesn’t like chicken? The delivery, she was a pro. He had a son in his arms 7 hours after it all started. He may have even mentioned he thought they could do it at home next time, the glare he got after that said his opinion was not needed.  


It wasn’t the kid itself that scared him either. He was a little nervous at first. Big ‘ol brute with a newborn, but he got a little sage advice from one of the nurses, “it’s just like a football... don’t drop it,” she had whispered to him. She was right too, that advice had served him well. He was a simple little guy his son, feed me, burp me, change me and a happy camper he was. As Lane grew he was easier everyday. Started doing push-up’s on the floor (tummy time my ass), sitting up and crawling around. Now he was a walking, talking little person. You dressed the kid, dinosaurs or sharks he didn’t care strapped on some boots and they were off. No fluff or muss, easy, man stuff. 

Girls were complicated. Women were complicated. Like really complicated, he looked over at his lovely wife... mind-blowingly complicated. 

“Sansa Clegane,” the midwife called, breaking his train of thought. “Lets get your weight today,” she chirps. 

“Don’t you dare look,” scolds Sansa stepping on the scale. “Oh my God!” She squeals. Sandor reaches for her and she holds his hand, pulling him in the room after the midwife. 

“So how how you been?” The midwife asks while taking her blood presure.

“I’m so done,” Sansa groans. Sandor’s head snaps to her, first time he’s scarcely heard her complain. “I mean are we done yet?” She questions. “This little girl seems to have a mind of her own.”

The midwife hums, “41 weeks and 2 days, bet you feel done. Did you try the things I suggested last time?”

Sansa blushed and perked Sandors interest. “Yes... we’ve been going for walks and I’m doing my yoga,” she pauses, the midwife looking at her expectently. “And we a... we’ve had a lot of sex,” she says. 

“A little organic prostaglandin application goes a long way for cervical ripening,” the midwife says. 

“Huh?” He questions.

“Your semen helps me dialate to have the baby,” she whispers. 

“Just doing my part,” he jokes. 

“Any contractions?” the midwife questions. Helping Sansa lay down in the table and uncovering her belly.

“Nope, none. I mean seriously we’re going at it like newlyweds,” she says sounding exasperated. 

“Nipple stimulation?" The midwife questions. 

“Yup, nothing,” Sansa answers. 

Sandor nearly chokes on his own spit, “huh?”

They both just glare at him, “induces contractions,” the midwife answers.

“Is that why...” he is remembering two nights ago and some topping usually reserved for ice cream. “Never mind,” shaking his head.

“Baby’s measuring a little big, but that’s no surprise I suppose,” the midwife says looking at him. “Let’s take a listen.” Some goo and hand held thingy later there’s a whooshing noise then... dub, dub, dub. “About 160 a minute, sounds good. Let me take a look under the drape, see where we are... 6. You are mostly there already. So... mama and baby look good and you are overdue already. You ready to this today?” asks the midwife. 

“Yes,” Sansa answers. 

“Huh?” He answers at the same time. Sansa just pats his hand.

“Go ahead and check in at the birthing center, I’ll be by in an hour or so, break your water and get her moving.” She states. “You’re going natural?”

“Yes,” Sansa answers. 

“See you soon.” 

It wasn’t an hour, it was two. 

He was ready. Really ready. Sansa was ready too, she even said it, she was done. This one was different then the the first, this girl. A girl, Sandor Clegane was having a girl. A GIRL, a tiny woman, female, a daughter, what was he supposed to do with that? He always knew this might happen 50/50 shot his wife always said, but he never really thought it was going to happen. 

“Fucking doctors,” Sandor whines. “You sure you don’t want something to eat?”

“No, I threw up a days worth of food with my last labor,” she said.

“Yeah, but it took hours,” he offered. 

A quick knock at the door then the midwife Osha barrels through, the nurse on her heels. “Let’s take a quick listen and get this rolling,” Osha jokes. He watches the nurse check the baby’s heart. “Sit down please,”’ she says looking at him and pointing at the bed beside Sansa. He watches her reaching under the gown, “6 and station +1,” Osha says. The nurse nods. “The hook,” she says holding her hand out. “Baby’s low, you might feel a little pop as I break your water... done. Just a little water, heads engaged. Shouldn’t be long,” she says in a reassuring tone. 

“Should we walk?” He asks. 

“Sure, not far.” Osha replies.

He helps Sansa stand more water comes out onto the floor. “Oh,” Sansa grunts pausing as a contraction grips her. Before they even get to the door, “I’m going to be sick,” and the nurse hands her a puke bag.

“She’s transitioning,” Osha states smiling. 

As if answering Sansa grips his arm firmer and starts those panting breaths. He steadies her with his hands and as the contraction finishes he pulls her hands to his shoulders, wrapping his arms on the small of her back and rocking her side to side. 

“Drunk girl slow dance,” Sansa says smiling up at him and leaning against his chest. 

“Worked with the last one,” he replied. 

They continue like this for the next hour or so, contractions getting stronger and closer together. Catelyn and Arya sneak in partway through. Arya’s catching snippets on video, no ‘vag’ shots she promises. Catelyn offering soothing words, but Sandor holds tight. Her noises have advanced from breathy pants to more primal moans and grunts. He might laugh if he wasn’t so damn impressed. He raises his eyebrows at Osha after a contraction causes Sansa to squeeze him tight and a deep moan escaping his wife. 

“I’m feeling pressure, I think, I think it’s time to push,” Sansa says breathless. 

“Can I get you on the bed for a check or do you want to deliver standing up?” 

“Standing up? What kind of hippy bullshit...” Sandor growls. 

“Bed please,” Sansa squeaks. 

Sandor helps her over to the bed. He’s standing on her right holding her hand, Catelyn just behind him and Arya on the opposite. 

“All ready, you are complete and ready to push. Do what your body tells you,” Osha says. “You going to do the honors?” Osha asks looking right at him. 

“The cord, yeah,” he replies. 

Osha laughs, “no, do you want to deliver your daughter?”

“Huh?” 

“Sandor do you want to deliver your daughter?” Osha asks again. 

“Ya, a-but a, yes? Can I do that?" he questions. 

“Of course, just a bit slippery. Main thing is...” 

“Don’t drop the baby right,” he scoffs. 

“Basically, mama does most of the work. I’ll be right here too.” She says patting Sansa’s hand. 

Sandor looks up at Catelyn, tears are in her eyes as she nods at him. “Okay Little Bird, Let’s do this,” he laughs and steals a kiss. He holds her hand as she bears down, and Osha does something under the gown. 

“Okay, few more pushes and we’ll meet your girl. Remember push, hold your progress then push again past that,” Osha says and Sansa nods. 

He feels Sansa’s grip tightens and a deep moan escapes her lips. He sees Osha motion him over and he gives Catelyn Sansa’s hand. 

“She’s right here, one more push Sansa.” Osha demands. Turning toward him she directs “Scoop her up and place her on mama’s chest.” 

He sees Sansa bear down again into a push. 

“Here she is,” Osha cheers.

Sandor follows her directions and helps his daughter from her mother. He places her on Sansa’s chest, she’s turned toward him eyes open just looking at him, her little hand is wrapped tight around his first finger. His girl. A towel is laid over her as she’s rubbed dry, she argues a bit but doesn’t let go or take her eyes off him. Big blue eyes and dark hair.

“Little Bird,” he whispers in awe.

“She’s beautiful Sandor,” she whispers back. 

“The pulses have stooped, it’s time for the cord,” Osha announces. 

He hears a little cry from his daughter as he separates his hand from her grip. She begins to peck around looking for her first meal and Sandor moves to cut the cord. Then he’s back sitting beside her one arm around his wife and one helping hold up his little girl. She’s found the breast and is working for her latch. 

“Placentas coming Sansa, one good push...” she says. “There, it’s done. Gonna give you belly a rub and clean you up a bit.” Osha and the nurse putter a bit around them. 

“You were amazing Sansa,” he whispers and kisses her temple, “you both were.” His wife looks tired but so happy. 

“I’ll get Ned and Lane,” Catelyn volunteers. Tapping Arya on the shoulder and gesturing toward the door. 

They exit quietly and it’s just him with his girls. 

“Feel better now mister tough guy?” She chirps. 

“Huh?” Seems his word of the day. 

“Big bad Sandor Clegane terrified of a little girl before she was even born,” she teased. 

“You noticed that,” he asks? 

“The way your eyes glazed over every time someone brought her up, yeah,” she laughed. “You ok now,” she asks? His little girl lost the breast and started to fuss. 

“Yeah, give her here,” he said. He lifted the baby and pulled a blanket around her. He stands up “hey little one, I’m your dada,” he soothes. “You’ll want for nothing little one, nothing at all. Me and papa Ned will make it so, don’t you worry.” He was petrified yesterday of a little girl, now he’s got her tucked up under his chin and swaying back an forth.

“Ready for me to get her weight now?” The nurse asks. 

“Give us a few minutes please,” Sansa says. 

He hears the family entering. Lane and Ned go straight to Sansa, the rest circle around him to sneak a peak at the little one. But right now he doesn’t have eyes for anything but his little girl. He smiles and whispers to her, “everything is going to be alright little one.”

“Hour and fifty minutes, is that a record big sis?" Arya asks. 

“Women in our family deliver fast Arya,” Catelyn answers. “You just wait and see.” 

“Looks like a lot of work for a pipsqueak,” Arya retorts. 

“Worth it,” Catelyn scolds.

He feels a pat on his back and sees Ned grinning at him. “Little girls in this family seem to wrap there dad around their little finger, right?” Ned laughs. 

“Aye, wrapped around her finger,” he repeats.


End file.
